Know Who You Are

It wasn’t much for the outsider.

A small business, some would’ve even called it "just a hobby”. It wasn’t just a hobby. It’s not like there was a financial fortune in it or lots of employees and material riches, but it was a fortune for me. It was my dream, my labour of love, stolen, broken and judged. Years of building and executing ideas, trials and errors, blod, sweat and tears (literally). It was my piece of bread, my ticket to exiting places and spaces, the ultimate opportunity (although not complete) for me to enjoy creating and sharing my art, and it was all taken away like in a wave of a hand. I lost my trust, for so called friends and allies, and closed my heart. I lost trust from my family who felt i disappointed them, and that i had led them on a dream to Nowhere. I lost faith in my own craft. I was consumed by grief, yes grief, and indulged in bitterness, it was the only fruit i would eat. I stoped believing in the Force of Awareness, i stoped believing in me, and so did everyone else. I thought. I was on my knees. I was scared shit. I had lost everything.

Now challenges don’t come in singlar, they come in plural.

But i kept doing it, my practice, the teaching, going to my classes, offering the few what was once appreciated by the many. I kept showing up, just in case someone would want to practice, or hear a story or two. On and off i’d hear a voice saying ”What the fuck are you doing? Who do you think you are? Who the Hell cares? Get a grip and go get a job, like normal people. Give Up!” Oh that vicious dark side, she can gently dry your teers in one moment to hit you with a plack in the head in the next. ”My darling idiot. Let me hold you and squeeze the living day out of you.”

But i’m not like ”normal people”. And i still went and did my thing, ’coz it was my Thing, and those few who came, enjoyed it. And i enjoyed it. That community of a few fellow searchers and a little voice of wisdom that barely held on to a string, created space and art and joy. And breathing space.

Something crept out of the celler when the coast was clear, during my classes. Courage? A force calling for it’s Soul. Begging don’t forget who you are! Remember who you are and what you’re here for.

So i kept remembering. And i keep remembering.

Those few who insisted i come, and sit and say something, not knowing they where my life savors, they thought i was teaching them, they where rebuilding me. We are all, a work in progress. Some apparently believed in the practice, and in me.

I haven’t gained back what i have lost. That’s no longer mine. I have been blessed with something entirely new. A new dawn. The exquisite experience of passion and the right questions to ask. I have been blessed with Knowing more closely who i Am. The Wisdom of the Unknown can only be revealed in Darkness, when the insistence of control is released and all that is left is trust and a leaning in, rather then resisting. I had forgotten who i was, so i needed to be reminded again.

Such compassion the heart is capable of!

May i never loose myself again. But if i do, i trust that voice of wisdom in the depths of the Heart to call for the Soul of my Being. And i trust in the few, who believe. I am so filled with gratitude. Thank you.